Heart of Magic
by Sonia
Summary: A wizard out of time and a witch feeling out of place unite to find the heart of all magic. Hermoine has gone in search of answers about Hogwarts' strange guest. She gets more than she bargained for . . .
1. Default Chapter

Heart of Magic  
  
Author: Sonia  
  
Rating - PG  
  
Category: Adventure, angst and a little romance  
  
Summary – A wizard out of time and a witch feeling out of place unite to find the heart of magic. A Harry Potter/Lord of the Rings crossover.  
  
Disclaimer – All characters involved here are the property of JK Rowling's or JRR Tolkien's. Sadly, I have no claim on any of them and this is being written totally for my amusement. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Other citations will be made where necessary  
  
Author's notes – If Sir Ian McKellen and Dame Maggie Smith hadn't bantered so well together while presenting awards at the 2002 Oscars, this fic might not have happened. It also wouldn't have came into being if Yunadax hadn't dared me to write it.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Burning.  
  
Falling.  
  
Intense heat.  
  
The Balrog unleashed its' wrath on Gandalf the Grey. Heat singed the soles of his feet and blisters started to form. The hem of his robes began disintegrating into ash. Gandalf could feel his flesh char, swelling and expanding with even more blisters.  
  
The Fellowship would have to rise above his passing. They must not abandon their quest and remain true to each other. Pain, so much pain caused by one small ring.  
  
Death would be a blessing.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Everyone had a place of refuge and comfort. Minerva McGonagall in her Animagus form, had stretched out on a stone bench in the ornamental garden beside the Gryffindor tower. Afternoon sunshine had been so rare of late. There had been a mass of dark clouds and lightning over the Forbidden Forrest and Hagrid had told Dumbledore the unicorns had been restless lately. The last time the unicorns had been so unsettled was when Voldemort was near and had made his first attack on Harry Potter.  
  
Did this mean Voldemort was on the move? Had he found a body to give new life to the evil that has paralysed the wizarding world for so long? Minerva knew Albus had taken extra care to shield Severus Snape, former Death Eater and now counterspy, from any of the Potions Master's former colleagues.  
  
Last week, the clouds had shifted over Hogwarts and remained there until this afternoon. Leaning back on her haunches, the tabby cat stretched and rolled along the bench. A light mist began to fall but soon stopped, leaving Hogwarts' deputy principal to enjoy her afternoon nap.  
  
Minerva's dreams were filled with images of a blue eyed lad with dark curly hair. He didn't look like any Gryffindor she knew. The boy looked like he had suffered some sadness recently. Her heart ached and every maternal instinct Minerva possessed yearned to reach out to the unknown boy. Even though he was with others, the youth seemed to be so totally alone.  
  
Curling into a ball, Minerva's sleep remained haunted by a pair of blue eyes. The eyes reflected a pain that should not be felt by one so young. Her brain eventually dismissed the boy's image, reminding Minerva divination had never been her strong point.  
  
She turned and stretched again, feeling something warm envelope her. It was nice. All cats liked being warm, Minerva thought as she drew herself closer to the source of her latest comfort.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Cool mist.  
  
A little sunshine.  
  
A stone bench still warm from the afternoon sun.  
  
Cat fur.  
  
Cat fur? What had the Balrog done to him, Gandalf wondered. Had he passed into shadow or had he been transformed by some dark magic into a common animal?  
  
What an irony. From Gandalf the Grey, unofficial leader of the Fellowship of the Ring, to nothing more than an accursed cat.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Feeling a distinctly male hand around her waist, Minerva transformed from her Animagus state and found herself in the arms of an elderly wizard.  
  
"Unhand me this instant and get your dispicable self back to Knockturn Alley!"  
  
Gandalf was dragged back to the here and now by the woman's strident cries. Opening his eyes he found an older but still somewhat attractive witch staring at him. Her eyes dared him to challenge her authority in this strange place.  
  
Where in the Shire was Knockturn Alley? There was no such place in any part of the Shire or Rivendell he could think of.  
  
"If you do not release me now I shall be forced to call the gamekeeper."  
  
This woman really did mean business, Gandalf mused. For that matter, no one in the Shire could afford a gamekeeper, so where was he?  
  
Minerva freed herself from Gandalf's now almost reluctant embrace, stood and began pacing in front of the bench. Her meticulous appearance and the regal pheasant plume in her hat reminded Gandalf of an attention to detail he last saw in female elves.  
  
This was not a time for magic tricks or sleight of hand. Careful words would be the order of the day. His survival might well depend on it, Gandalf thought as he stood to face the woman. Minerva began reaching for her wand, preparing to utter a bodybind spell in her defence.  
  
"Madam, I mean you no harm," Gandalf intoned, reaching out a hand and moving towards a determined Minerva.  
  
"As long as you remember to keep your hands to yourself, I shall allow you to continue." Minerva's grip on her wand tightened.  
  
"I am Gandalf the Grey of Middle Earth. While on a quest I was attacked by a Balrog and separated from my party. Many of my party would now believe I have been lost to them forever. Where am I?"  
  
"You are at Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in England and I am Minerva McGonagall, its' deputy principal."  
  
Gandalf's head drooped, his hat landing point first on Hogwarts' neatly trimmed lawns. Golden swirls of fireworks rushed out of the hat, crackling and swooping around Minerva.  
  
Hogwarts' deputy principal then did something unexpected and giggled like a first year student suddenly given an early mark from Severus' potions class.  
  
Regaining her composure, Minerva realised this stranger still needed to be treated with extreme caution – he could be one of Voldemort's Death Eaters or Voldemort himself. 


	2. Strolling through Gryfflindor Gardens

Chapter 2 – In Gryffindor Garden

Disclaimers etc in Chapter 1

Disclaimers – All characters are the property of JK Rowling and JRR Tolkien. This is being written totally for the amusement of myself and my friends. No money is being made  
  
Mentally she summoned Albus and Severus to the Gryffindor gardens. She would need Albus' wisdom and Severus' knowledge of the dark arts if this visitor was a servant of Lord Voldemort. She hoped Severus would be able to overcome his seeming distaste for Gryffindor and respond to her plea for him to attend the gardens.  
  
"Ms McGonagall, whatever can be the matter?" Dumbledore was soon by her side.  
  
"Oh Albus, I am not sure how ever to explain this. It seems we have an intruder who is not of this world."  
  
Dumbledore began stroking his beard. This was certainly a curious situation for the school. Gandalf could feel the gaze of the dark one they called Severus on him. It was a wave of suspicion and clouded feelings towards his sudden arrival at this strange place called Hogwarts.  
  
Severus felt the dark mark on his arm start to burn and wondered if this stranger was the cause. He did not look like any of the Death Eaters he knew but it was always possible Voldemort had taken the form of this elderly wizard. Surely Hogwarts defences could not have been breached in such an insidious manner. Severus began to draw his wand from the folds of his robes.  
  
"Cruc . . .," he began.  
  
"Severus! No!" Minerva intoned, a quiet fury rarely seen in the stately witch was evident.  
  
Gandalf's staff hit the ground, emitting a bolt of energy that threw the head of Slytherin to the ground, his wand rolling away to rest near the edge of a goldfish pond. Albus regarded the entire scene, assessing their guest's power and Minerva's reaction to Severus' attempted attack on this man. How had the breached the castle's defences? Where had he come from?  
  
"My fellow wizard, perhaps you would fancy a humbug or peppermint while you to join Professor Snape and I for a stroll around Hogwarts?" Dumbledore extended the familiar bag of sweets towards Gandalf who sniffed at them before waving the bag away.  
  
"Yes, I think some explanations are in order," Gandalf said walking towards Dumbledore and Snape, noting his feet were perfectly healthy in spite of suffering many injuries at the whims of the Balrog.  
  
"Don't worry Professor McGonagall, I assure you we won't harm our visitor without good reason," Snape muttered as he walked past Minerva. Minerva started to join the men, but a gesture from Dumbledore indicated she should remain in the garden.  
  
The three men walked away from the stone bench, two grey heads and one black, bent together in conversation. Minerva wondered why she was still worried. Albus and Snape, even though most students would think the pair had nothing to do with each other, made a formidable combination. Why had she defended the strange visitor to Hogwarts'? Witches intuition? Possible but highly unlikely she thought returning to the sanctity of her rooms.  
  
It had been so long since she had responded to any man on more than a professional level, that Minerva wondered if a fifth year Slytherin had slipped a potion into her morning cup of tea for fun.  
  
"Melodica," Minerva murmured with a wave of her wand. The strains of some Muggle called Bach's, Toccata and Fugue in D Minor filled the room. The intensely complex music was a soundtrack for how out of place Minerva was now feeling. From her window, she could still see the three men with their heads together. Hogwarts' newest visitor must have quite a tale.  
  
"Who are you?" Gandalf and Dumbledore stood almost eye to eye, with the wizard from Middle Earth having to tilt his head slightly to make eye contact with the school principal.  
  
"I am Gandalf the Grey of Middle Earth. I am not sure how I came to be here as the last thing I remember was undertaking a quest with eight companions. We were returning the One Ring to be destroyed in the fires of Mount Doom in the Land of Mordor. If we were successful Middle Earth would be free from evil.  
  
"The One Ring? I don't understand." Severus queried, prompting Gandalf to glare at him. Surely, everyone knew of the Ring's destructive and seductive powers.  
  
"Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,  
  
"Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone  
  
"Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die  
  
"One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne  
  
"In the land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.  
  
"One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,  
  
"One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them  
  
"In the land of Mordor where the Shadows lie."  
  
Snape's fingers curled even more tightly around his wand. This stranger should have been rendered helpless with one of the unforgivable curses instead of strolling around the grounds spouting pretty pieces of poetry. He rubbed the spot on his sleeve that covered the dark mark of a Death Eater, hoping to provide some relief from the slow burning feeling that started not long after he entered the Gryffindor gardens. Severus noted Dumbledore did not seem to be threatened by the school's unexpected guest.  
  
"A nice piece of poetry Gandalf," Dumbledore commented. "You still haven't explained the significance of the Ring."  
  
"It's not poetry you fool of a wizard!" Gandalf thundered. "It's the history of Middle Earth! The Ring when destroyed will rid Middle Earth of all darkness bringing peace to our world."  
  
Albus' expression remained thoughtful. An urgent owl to the Ministry of Magic would certainly be required. His mind had more questions than Gandalf could answer at this time. Inquiring after the remainder of Gandalf's party, the Hogwarts principal noticed the emotions on their visitor's face change as quickly as a summer storm.  
  
"We became separated after I was attacked by a Balrog." Gandalf's eyes began to tear at the thought of Frodo grieving for him,  
  
"This Balrog must have exceedingly great powers."  
  
"Yes, Professor Snape, the Balrog is as powerful as it is fiery. I am surprised to have survived its attack in the Mines of Moira. If I had not fallen to its powers, the quest would have been lost and that is where I became separated from my party."  
  
Without realising he had vocalised the thought, Albus wondered if the Dark Lord of which Gandalf spoke was Voldemort.  
  
"No, it is Sauron who hopes to gain control of Middle Earth by possessing the One Ring. I need to return to them in order for the Fellowship of the Ring to complete its quest. The very fate of Middle Earth and all its' lands could depend on it."  
  
Snape raised an eyebrow at Dumbledore. Before they could return this visitor to his rightful place and time, Hogwarts' principal needed to know how Gandalf the Grey had ended up asleep on a stone bench in the middle of the Gryffindor Gardens with one arm around Professor Minerva McGonagall.  
  
In the Gryffindor common room, Harry Potter put aside his arithmancy text, closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. His scar had started to hurt. 


	3. Of Unicorns

Chapter 3 – Of Unicorns

A/N - // \\ denotes start and end of flashback sequence. Disclaimers etc in Chapter 1. 

The herd of unicorns galloped on through the Forbidden Forrest – instinctively they knew this was an area they had to be free of rapidly.

Too many of their own kind had fallen during the dark days here. While some degree of peace had returned affording wizards, witches and magical creatures some degree of safety, heightened vigilance was still the order of the day. 

A distressed whinny and the shattering of bones from the back of the herd only served to spur the other creatures on. There was no time to rescue the fallen - for death would be the only salvation for this gentle creature. 

Shadows began to swirl through the trees of the forest and a blanket of evil unrolled itself even closer to Hogwarts.

Gandalf paced around the guest room behind Dumbledore's office still trying to work out how he had been spared by Balrog. The principal had sent to Madam Malkin for fresh robes for the visiting wizard. While feeling more like his old self than he had since the fellowship had left Rivendell, Gandalf was still restless and needed to be amongst nature.

Picking up his staff, he began to negotiate the horrid stairwells that seemed to change direction at will. There had to be some more greenery, other than that garden, around here somewhere.

In the Gryffindor common room, Harry continued to massage his forehead, no longer sure if it was his scar, the arithmancy homework or the 20-inch potions parchment he still had to compose that was giving him the headache. 

"Aaaarrrrgh!" Harry's head hit the antique desk, his moan startling Ron and scattering the wizard chess pieces from the board. 

"Harry, you all right? I think you need to get out of here for a while. Go for a walk and have some tea with Hagrid," Ron urged. 

~*~*~*~

The wounded unicorn wasn't sure what its' last moments would entail but the kindness of this touch was a surprise when compared to the start of this nightmare, this pain. 

The herd, his family was long gone from this place of evil and had hopefully found some peace.

The beast knew the stranger was meaning to help, even using his own brand of magic to try and heal the wounds inflicted by this darkest form of evil. Soon there would be a release from this prison that had no bars.

~*~*~*~

The Hogwarts' grounds had impressed Gandalf in their neatness and in some ways reminded him of the order and peace of Rivendell. Yet it was this forest he found himself in that brought real feelings of homesickness to the fore. 

A pair of hooves poking out from behind one of the trees behind a hut had caught his attention. Whatever had attacked his unicorn was as deadly as any orc or Black Rider on Middle Earth, he thought.

There was little he could do for this creature except chant a couple of simple spells to hopefully relieve its suffering and bring the end quickly. A gentle death would be the kindest magic of all. 

Leaning over the unicorn's bloodied neck; Gandalf whispered an elvish poem, normally reserved for fallen warriors to bring their soul peace in its final hour. 

The elderly wizard did not hear the footsteps of another intruder to the forest fall on the leaves.

~*~*~*~

Ron had been right. Getting out of the common room and heading for tea with Hagrid was just what he needed, Harry thought.

Opening the door of the cottage, Harry saw all was in order but the groundskeeper was not at home. Going back to his room and still not written potions parchment was not really at option at the moment. His headache wasn't as bad now and he could probably afford to take an afternoon off before his seventh year final exams started in six weeks time. 

Adjusting his eyes to the dappled light in the forest, Harry started to wander drawing peace from the ancient trees. He knew the unicorn herds had only recently returned to grazing on the edges of the forest that backed onto the Hogwart's grounds.

The late afternoon sunshine bounced off something shiny in the forest causing Harry to squint as he tried to make out what it was bringing so much light to a place of darkness. Moving closer, he could see puddles of unicorn blood and wondered if the wounded beast had sought sanctuary to be healed or had been taken by one of the predators that lurked even deeper in the forest. 

Harry thought back to Firenze the centaur's words the first time he entered the Forbidden Forest.

// "That is because it is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn….only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price." //

The young wizard shuddered at the thought of a renewed evil this close to the only place he called home. 

He had taken less than a dozen steps before he found the wounded, bleeding unicorn with a wizard muttering something in what seemed like a foreign language. This was not right, not right at all. 

Who was this strange wizard leaning over the bleeding neck of a unicorn?

Reaching into the pocket of his cargo pants, Harry felt for his ever-present wand. Professor Flitwick had occasionally mentioned that, when dueling, the best form of defence was often attack. The last person Harry had seen this close to a bleeding unicorn was Voldemort. Surely he wouldn't be so idiotic to be this close to Hogwarts?

Harry raised his wand.

"Ava . . .aaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrgh!"


	4. Minerva, Mistress of Martial Arts?

Disclaimers etc in Part 1

A/N – Thanks to all my reviewers – particularly Lyansidde and Yunadax for their continued encouragement.

Minerva McGonagall tightened the Chinese burn she was applying to Harry's wrist. Everyone had to have at least one vice to keep them interesting. Dumbledore's was ten-pin bowling and Minerva's was watching Jackie Chan movies. 

Occasionally the wizarding world could learn a lot from Muggle culture; Minerva mused as she applied even more pressure to Harry's wrist. A correctly applied Chinese burn caused plenty of pain but with none of the side effects of an Unforgivable. 

Quite effective in one on one combat, really, she thought. 

"Professor – OWWWWWWWWW! What are you doing?" Finally Harry dropped his wand. 

"Back to your common room immediately Mr Potter," Minerva barked. "Wait for me there."

Confused and his wrist still stinging from the Chinese burn, Harry headed back the castle trying to work out how to explain things to Ron and Hermoine. Was the strange wizard he disturbed a renegade Death Eater? Where did McGonagall learn how to do a Chinese burn? Both were pretty disturbing thoughts.

"Are you hurt, my dear sir?" Never in his seven years at Hogwarts had Harry heard his head of house addressing a contemporary with so much tenderness. Hiding behind a tree, he continued to watch the exchange. 

"Gentle lady, I am well. While I don't believe the lad meant me harm, why did you stop the spell he was casting? Do you consider him to be some sort of threat to my well being?" 

Like so many at Hogwarts right now, Gandalf was joining the legion of the confused and magical. Minerva wondered where to begin the necessary explanations about her three favourite Griffindors and the continual struggle against Lord Voldemort.

Guiding Gandalf from the forest to a stone bench in the shade of the astronomy tower, Minerva began her explanation of the life and death of James and Lily Potter, the birth of Harry, his existence with the Dursleys, Harry's years at Hogwarts, the never ending battles against Voldemort and the dark one's subsequent disappearance. 

"No, Harry Potter is no threat to your well being here at Hogwarts." Minerva placed a hand on Gandalf's, hoping to provide reassurance to her visitor. 

"The last time anyone had that look on their face, they were trying to kill me. I was only trying to make that poor beast's last moments as dignified as I could." Gandalf stared at Minerva, squeezing her hand and almost willing her to believe him. 

Harry was fuming about Professor McGonagall's actions in the forest all the way back to the castle. Why had the deputy principal stopped him from killing one of Voldemort's minions? It was bad enough that he had to get his head around Snape working as a double agent, but Professor McGonagall defending one from the dark side? If this were where the wizarding world was heading, he would rather move back in with the Dursleys. 

By the time he reached the Fat Lady, he was at boiling point. As for the Fat Lady, she was so surprised at his demeanor she let Harry in without asking for the password. Throwing his legs over the arms of one of the chairs in the common room, the Gryffindor seeker stared at the fire. 

"McGonagall has gone barking mad," he muttered.

"In the name of Merlin, Harry – what are you talking about?" Hermoine would not tolerate any criticism of her favourite teacher.

"That strange wizard who has been with the professors for the last couple of days. I'm sure he is some sort of servant of Voldemort's who has got them all sucked in with his stranger from another world routine. He was leaning over a bleeding unicorn and the last person we all saw doing that was Voldemort." 

"Have you spoken to this other wizard?" Ron asked.

"Why do I have to? I know what I saw in that forest. Enough said." 

"Well, you pair can sit around and discuss this for as long as you like but it won't get any kind of useful straight answer." Hermoine gathered a couple of parchments and a quill, before tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. 

"Where are you going?" Ron demanded.

"To do what I do best."

"Raid the library and break into the restricted section?" Harry teased. 

Hermoine smiled and, with a reply of "maybe, maybe not", disappeared through the portrait hole. 


	5. Because Stone Cold Snape Says So

Disclaimers etc, in Part One

What was a witch to do when she needed a straight answer and the library wasn't the slightest help?

To say nothing of Madam Pince telling Hermoine to go and ask her own head of house about the strange visitor to Hogwarts.

Nodding to Nearly Headless Nick, Hermoine paused outside the tapestry that guarded the entrance to Professor McGonagall's rooms. She must have forgotten a silencing spell as the continued complex notes of Bach's Toccata filled the hallway - for the second day in a row. Surely, Professor McGonagall knew Bach had composed other things besides the Toccata and Fugue, thought Hermoine. 

Heading towards Professor Dumbledore's quarters, two of the staircases changed without warning, leaving Hermoine standing on a staircase leading straight to the dungeons. 

"Well, at least I'll get my straight answer," Hermoine muttered, almost dreading the thought of trying to explain the impossible to the habitually hard to read teacher. Well by Godric Gryffindor's sword or on it, Hermoine thought as she opened the classroom door, here goes nothing. . 

"Professor Snape, I need some advice."

"Why aren't you asking your own head of house?" Professor Snape stared at Hermoine as a draft of wind shut the dungeon door with a thud, startling the young witch. 

"She's distracted by something. Professor McGonagall has been playing Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D Minor for the last two days straight and gave me an A minus on my last transfiguration parchment. I think this strange wizard has gotten to her somehow – she is clearly not herself. I want a straight answer and I want it now." 

"While I admire your honesty Miss Granger, as Head Girl please speak about your professors with more respect. The strange wizard is known as Gandalf the Grey from Middle Earth. As far as Professor Dumbledore and I can work out, it seems our visitor was attacked by a magical creature, called a Balrog and through some shift in the fabric of time has ended up at Hogwarts.

"Why? How? What's a Balrog?"

"I'd hoped your insatiable curiosity had matured and evolved during seven years at this school Miss Granger but I see that there are some things we can not teach you.

"Professor Dumbledore has his own theories relating to the alignment of the stars earlier today and at the same time in Middle Earth and the powers of the creature that attacked Gandalf the Grey. I believe he came to this school via some sort of portkey between dimensions. 

"Okay, so that covers the how did he get here part of my question, but what's a Balrog?

"To hear our guest describe it, a Balrog seems to be a magical creature made entirely of fire. As for why it didn't kill him, Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall seem to put it down to sheer dumb luck. 

"Why did Professor McGonagall try to stop Harry from killing him?

"Perhaps she feels some kind of affection for him. Typical Gryffindor sentimental clap trap really. Taking the injured bird under your wings to help it heal before it flies away and leaves you. Unless you want a detention or for me to call Professor McGonagall down here to discuss this further, I would recommend you leave now."

Hermoine was halfway out the potions professor's door when she paused to look at the man who had been her nemesis for seven years. He was returning her gaze as if he was not quite sure who he was seeing or perhaps gaining a new perspective on someone who had been around for a while. 

"Miss Granger, have you forgotten something?"

"I don't think so professor."

"Oh I think you have." Professor Snape's after midnight voice held a little too much promise for 8pm. He strode over to Hermoine, took her in his arms and kissed her senseless. 

"Why did you do that?" 

"Very few people know this Miss Granger but I have an impulse control problem at times. Back to your common room before I take points from Gryffindor and I don't care if you're the Head Girl or not."

Hermoine went back to the common room on automatic pilot. All she could think of was how good Snape's lips felt on hers. That was wrong, but it felt so right. She wondered when Severus has started considering her as Miss Hermoine Granger, knowledgeable and attractive woman rather than Miss Granger, pain in the arse Gryffindor know-it-all. 

Who cares when he made that little decision, Hermoine thought. She could live with it. 

Curling up in one of the leather arms chairs, Hermoine reached for Crookshanks and began stroking a spot between his ears. Rather than wait for Harry and Ron's questions, she got in first.

"According to Sever, I mean Professor Snape, it seems the strange wizard is from a place called Middle Earth. I haven been through every atlas of the wizarding world covering ancient and modern times and haven't been able to find it yet

"Unusual for you not to find something on your research marathons Hermoine," Harry remarked. 

"Why should we trust him Hermione? Ron asked

"Because Professor Snape believes he accidentally fell through a portkey in his own world while being attacked by a magical creature called a Balrog. How would you feel if you were away from the only time and place you called home?

"And that's good enough for you? Because Stone Cold Snape says so?" Ron's fascination with Muggle studies and the popularity of wrestling was one of the biggest running jokes in the common room. 

Hermoine thought back to Severus' kiss. It had been hot and true enough to blister paint. 

"Yes."


End file.
